


Three's a Crowd

by DarylDixonGrimes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Creampie, Double Penetration, Facial, M/M, Multi, PWP, Rickyl, Threesome, Top!Jesus, bottom!daryl, cocky assholes in the backseat just want a piece of Daryl's ass, highway sex, jerickyl, jerking off, jeryl, proven fact, sharing is caring, this is how you establish trade, top!rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:59:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarylDixonGrimes/pseuds/DarylDixonGrimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a day of being continually cockblocked by Paul Rovia, Rick and Daryl decide to get down and dirty, prisoner in the backseat be damned. The only problem is Paul is definitely not as unconscious as he seems. And he has no qualms about trying to get in on the action himself. </p><p>---</p><p>A slight rewrite of the Rickyl episode from season 6. Featuring some changed details because I do what I want and a threesome that definitely totally happened, you guys. *coughs*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a Crowd

Daryl Dixon hated Paul Rovia. He had hated a lot of people in his life. His father, his brother on occasion, Tommy Fielder who was the reason people had called him ‘Dipshit Dixon’ for the first two years of high school, the Governor, Gareth, the wolves, Dwight, those Savior fuckers he’d killed on the road. There had been many names on his proverbial shit list, some more horrible than the others.  
  
But in that precise exact moment, sitting in the front of a delivery truck that he and Rick had just stolen back, he hated Paul Rovia more than anyone.  
  
There had been something sacred in the air surrounding his run with Rick. It was hidden in the weeks they’d been inside the walls, in hurried touches and sloppy stolen kisses. It permeated Rick’s insistence that the run be “just me and Daryl, but thank you for offering.” It was everywhere, this promise of more, of something like those nights together at the prison, of those times out on the road when Rick had told the others the two of them were going to scout ahead a ways.  
  
And Daryl had known it was coming as soon as they’d found the truck. Their mission had come together so easily and so quickly that the rest of the day seemed to stretch on, dappled with endless possibility. They wouldn’t be expected back for _hours_ , and that meant that they had each other all to themselves to do as they liked.  
  
Or they would’ve. Until Paul fucking Rovia showed up and ruined the entire goddamn mood. Jesus? More like Interruptus: the Roman god of fucking cockblocking.  
  
“I left my CD in the car.” Rick frowned, hitting the eject button on the truck’s player hopefully. It contained some stop smoking self help CD. Daryl snatched it and Frisbeed it out the window.  
  
“Take it you won’t be quitting anytime soon?” Rick asked.  
  
Daryl grumbled something incoherent in response. He’d been sulking in the passenger seat since they left Paul tied up on the road. Such great promise wasted because some dumbfuck couldn’t keep his hands out of Rick’s pants.  
  
_His_ hands should have been in Rick’s pants, not Paul fucking Rovia’s.  
  
Daryl opened the glove box, took out the case for the offending CD and flung it out the window too. He watched it bounce off the asphalt in the side mirror. Then, he dug around for something else to throw. The car manual would be too useful in the event that they kept the truck, but he found and tossed out a ballpoint pen. Plenty of those fuckers left in the world.  
  
“You really shouldn’t litter,” Rick joked.  
  
“Yeah, well fuck the earth,” Daryl said back. He threw out a metal tire gauge. He had at least two more in his backpack at any given time. Not that it did them much good. They had a few air compressors in Alexandria, but out on the road, all they could do was make a mental note to get some air put in later if the tire would even make it that long.  
  
“You know I’ve still got every intention of fucking you, right? I’m just trying to put some distance between us and him before I pull over, but if that’s why you’re over there pouting, w-” Something clanged quietly on the roof of the truck. Daryl looked up.  
  
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  
  
“That shifty fucker is on the roof,” Daryl said. How the fuck had he managed to slip his ropes and climb up there? Better yet, how did they manage to not notice that he wasn’t sitting in the middle of the road anymore before they drove off? And how the fuck had he managed to goddamn cockblock him _again_.  
  
“Not for long. Hold on.”  
  
Daryl grabbed the oh-shit handle above the passenger window, and Rick slammed on the brakes. A body went toppling over the windshield, banging against the hood before momentum carried it off and onto the ground.  
  
“Hold that thought, Rick. I’m about to kill this son of a bitch.”  
  
“Daryl...”  
  
But he was already out of the truck, sprinting after Paul while he ran away through the field.  
  
“Mother. Fucker.” Daryl reached out, trying to grab hold of the fabric of his coat. Damn, that asshole was fast. Daryl wheezed quietly while he trailed after him. Maybe he should’ve kept that stop smoking CD after all.  
  
Rick tried to box Jesus in using the truck, blocking his path this way and that, but he abandoned that, backing it up and getting out. Meanwhile Daryl danced with the other man like it was some juvenile game of tag. They floated side to side, Paul trying to get around him while Daryl tried to prevent it.  
  
Jesus twirled, his stupid coat swishing when he did it. Rick parked the truck and got out. Daryl thought he aimed to help, and he probably did, but right then he was looking at the group of walkers that had been tethered to an old pickup nearby. They had broken free.  
  
“I got him!” Daryl hollered, glaring at Paul when he said it. He thought of all the ways he could hurt him for ruining his damn day. Twice. He could break his legs and leave him, let the chips fall where they may. Or he could just wring his neck the way he really wanted.  
  
Paul made a beeline for the truck. After all of everything, the fucker still had the audacity to try and steal the truck again. Fuck it, he was stabbing this guy through his eye socket and sleeping easy about it.  
  
“I’ve come to a conclusion, asshole,” Daryl said, chasing him all the way to the cab of the vehicle. He grabbed him and violently pulled to try and dislodge him. Paul fought back, shoving him with his feet. Daryl pulled harder.  
  
And then his own gun was pointed right in his face, Paul looking at him with an unreadable expression. And all Daryl could think was that if he died without feeling Rick Grimes slide into his ass one more fucking time, he was going to haunt this long-haired fuck for the rest of the apocalypse. Not a nice little creepy-note-in-the-fog-on-the-mirror haunt neither. He was going to straight up _Poltergeist_ this asshole.  
  
“Duck.”  
  
Daryl ducked. A gunshot rang through his ears, tickling his ear drums in a dangerous way.  
  
“Yeah, thanks,” he said, and then he decked Paul fucking Rovia square in his pretty face. It was the best thing he’d done all day. He took his gun back. Everything blurred while the two of them rolled around in the cab, and the next thing Daryl knew, Paul was on the ground unconscious and the truck was sinking into the lake.  
  
“Well, that went well,” Rick said.  
  
“Mhm.” Daryl drew his knife. A quick slide through the temple and Paul would never trouble them again.  
  
“Daryl,” Rick said sternly. Daryl looked over at him. He was making _that_ face, that one that meant that he wasn’t going to allow someone to kill a guy he wasn’t sure needed killing.  
  
“Fine, let’s leave him then. Go look through those cars and shit and get the hell out of here.”  
  
“Daryl,” Rick said again.  
  
“We’ll put him up a damn tree then.”  
  
They didn’t put him up a damn tree. No, Rick enlisted Daryl to tie the man up again, knowing that the hunter was better at knots. Daryl tied him up damn good too. Houdini himself couldn’t have gotten out of the shit without help. Then they threw the fucker into the backseat of the first car they could hotwire.  
  
“Asshole,” Daryl said, slamming the door on him.    
  
He sulked even harder on their drive back toward Alexandria. The car was so damn old that the window was some crank number, but Daryl took the effort to roll it down partially so he could empty this glove box of all of its contents too. It was some cobbled together monstrosity of a car, so there was no manual. But there was an oily rag that he let trail in the wind a bit before letting it go. There was also an old Cher tape he fully disemboweled before flipping it through the crack.  
  
There was no chance in hell of him getting laid anymore, not after he and Rick had been forced to gallivant all over the damn countryside dealing with Paul Rovia. Shit, Daryl hated him even more than he had earlier if that was even possible.  
  
He grumbled, slamming the glove box shut. He contemplated reaching behind him and digging through Paul’s pockets for more shit to throw out the window. But he settled for rolling it up and chewing on his thumbnail instead.  
  
“Safe to say today didn’t really go as planned,” Rick said.  
  
Daryl kicked one foot up onto the dash and wrapped an arm around his knee. He resumed gnawing on the skin around his thumb.  
  
“Safe to say,” he agreed.  
  
“You know, it doesn’t have to be over just yet,” Rick said quietly.  
  
Daryl looked over at him to see if he was serious, but Rick slid a pretty serious hand onto his upper thigh that confirmed it as well as any facial expression would.  
  
“We ain’t exactly alone,” Daryl said. Rick eased the car to a stop.   
  
“He’s out,” Rick said. “And honestly what’s he gonna do about it if he does wake up? Tell on us?”  
  
Daryl looked back at the unconscious lump in the back seat.  
  
“I don’t wanna leave him in the car alone,” Daryl said. “I don’t trust the fucker.”  
  
“Then we’ll stay in the car.” Rick reached over and cupped Daryl’s cheek. Daryl glanced back at Paul again, torn between apprehension and finally getting the thing he’d really been wanting all day. And damn did he ever want it. Right on cue, his cock started to harden in his jeans. Then Rick leaned forward and kissed him, and he knew there was no way in hell he would refuse, not when his lover’s tongue was that deep in his mouth. He moaned softly.  
  
“Is that a yes?” Rick asked, running his thumb across Daryl’s bottom lip. In response, Daryl dipped his head forward and sucked it into his mouth, keeping his eyes locked on Rick’s while he did it. The leader’s next exhale came out loud and heavy.  
  
With his other hand, Rick reached across the console and rubbed Daryl through his jeans. The hunter moaned around his finger and reached over to reciprocate. Rick closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a pleasured sigh.  
  
“That feel good?” Rick asked. He slid his thumb out from between Daryl’s lips and dropped his dominant hand down to replace the other. Daryl arched up to grind against his palm.  
  
“Mhm.”  
  
“Good,” Rick said, using both hands to undo the button on Daryl’s jeans. The hunter leaned over to do the same, sliding his hands into the other man’s pants and gripping him firmly. Eyes locked, they stroked one another.  
  
“Gonna kiss me or what, Rick?” he challenged. Rick’s mouth quirked up and he leaned across the divide to assault him with lips and tongue. Daryl moaned into his mouth, rocking softly into the motions of his hand.  
  
“You know, if you two need lube, there’s some in my coat pocket.”  
  
Daryl flinched out of the kiss.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” he said. Rick’s hand froze before his own did. The two of them turned and looked into the backseat where Paul sat upright in the middle with a cocky grin on his face. He moved his eyes down to where their arms crossed over the console. They still hand their hands in each others’ pants.  
  
“Well, you’re half right,” Paul said.  
  
Daryl growled. There was no way he was letting this fucker get in the way again. He was going to fuck Rick right there in the front seat and this blue-eyed fuck was just going to have to deal with it.  
  
“You just carry lube around?” Rick asked. He took his hand out of Daryl’s pants and drew his gun, training it on Paul while he felt around on his coat until he found something. He stuck his hand into one of the pockets and pulled out a decent-sized tube of lubricating jelly.  
  
Jesus looked Rick up and down in a way that was so suggestive Daryl would’ve tried to hit him if Rick hadn’t been blocking his path.  
  
“You never know when you’ll have an opportunity,” he said. This time he flicked his eyes at Daryl, raking them over the parts he could see. Daryl watched Rick square up possessively in his periphery. His cock twitched in approval.    
  
“Thanks for this,” Rick said, his tone half-mocking. He brought his body back into the front seat and tucked the gun up onto the dash, too far away for Paul to reach quickly, but close enough that he could grab it in an instant if the other man tried anything. “Daryl, take your pants off.”  
  
Daryl glanced back at Jesus again. He raised an eyebrow at him in response.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Daryl, I wasn’t askin,” Rick said sternly. And Daryl knew he could easily make the other man stop, that he wasn’t _really_ ordering him around, but goddamn he loved it when he pretended to. He arched up to try and slip his jeans off. His knees collided with the glove box.  
  
“Shit.”  
  
Rick and Paul both laughed, but Rick was having just as much of a struggle getting his own down with the steering wheel in his way. He accidentally flung a hand into the bottom of the wheel, shaking the pain out of his fingertips.  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
Now it was Daryl’s turn to laugh. He popped his seat back, smiling in satisfaction when he felt it bump hard into Paul’s knee. But the added space gave him room to slide his pants down to his ankles, and with a few awkward moments that entailed yanking one leg and then the other up onto the dash, he got the strings undone and his jeans the rest of the way off over his shoes.  
  
Meanwhile Rick accidentally honked the horn, a single little muted beep. He swore.  
  
“Rick,” Daryl hissed. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was having to contend with a bunch of walkers after he’d had an orgasm. Or before he finished. Or at all really.  
  
“Good enough,” Rick said, his jeans only down off his ass. He looked around the space of the front seat, surveying it like he was trying to make some sort of decision.  
  
“Doggie style,” Paul said. “Bottom’s knees on one seat, his hands on the other.”  
  
“Hey, screw you,” Daryl said, without even looking at him, but he looked at Rick who nodded, conceding that it really was the best way. Daryl let the other man help him maneuver so that he was in the exact position Paul had suggested, his hands on the passenger seat, his knees on the driver’s, with Rick wedged between his ass and the driver’s side window.  
  
“Sorry,” Rick said, leaning over his back. He gave him a couple strokes to punctuate his apology. “I was gonna find a good place for this like that barn. Or the roof of that truck, but...”  
  
“But some asshole lost it in a lake.”  
  
“Losing that truck was a two person effort,” Paul said.  
  
“Shut up,” Rick growled, authoritative and sexy as hell. Resting his body on Daryl’s back, he wrapped his arms around his middle, popping the lube beneath them and slicking up his fingers. Shifting his weight, he snaked his hand around to his lover's ass. Daryl felt a wet digit gently massage his puckered hole.  
  
“You want this quick?” Rick asked, alternating between rubbing and pressing gently.  
  
“Want it good,” Daryl said. “Don’t matter how quick it is.”  
  
“I can do that.” Rick slowly slid his finger in to the knuckle. Then he crooked it down, feeling around for Daryl’s sweet spot and rubbing it when he found it. The hunter sighed out softly, rocking against the other man's touch.  
  
“There you go,” Rick said. “Just relax.” He added a little more pressure, varying between side-to-side motions and little circles. Daryl moaned quietly. The man in the backseat let out a ragged breath.  
  
“We should’ve gagged him,” Daryl said, his body betraying him by responding to the sound.  
  
“Nice guys would at least let me have one hand,” Paul said.  
  
“Go screw yourself,” Daryl said.  
  
“That was kind of the point.”  
  
Daryl growled.  
  
“Ignore him,” Rick purred in his ear. “I’m the only other person in this car that matters.” He wormed another finger in next to the first. Daryl twitched reflexively, but it actually went in pretty easy, a fact that wasn’t lost on his partner.  
  
“What did you have in here last?” Rick asked, testing out a third finger and finding that it slipped in pretty easily too. He hummed quietly in approval and asked another question before Daryl could think properly to answer the first. “Last night or this morning?”  
  
“Couldn’t sleep,” Daryl admitted.  
  
“That’s not an answer, Daryl.” Three fingers nailed down on his prostate, kneading it intently. Daryl grunted.  
  
“Could’ve been either’s what I meant.”  
  
“You better come up with an answer for me before I stop,” Rick said. He pushed down hard for emphasis, making Daryl whine in the back of his throat. “What did you put in this needy little hole, Daryl?”  
  
“A few things.”  
  
“Daryl.”  
  
“Fingers first. Can never get it as good as you on my own.”  
  
“I bet you can’t.” Rick added a fourth finger just to see if he could. He could.  
  
“Then?” Paul asked, leaning into the space between the two front seats.  
  
“I thought I told you to shut up,” Rick said. Daryl looked back over his shoulder to see Paul watching with interest, his own shoulders resting against the edges of both seats.  
  
“Hey, motherfucker,” Daryl said.  
  
“Hey,” Paul said back.  
  
“This ain’t for you to get off on.”  
  
“It could be,” he said, tilting his head to peer underneath Daryl’s body.  
  
“Excuse me,” Rick replied.  
  
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“I mean there’s three of this in this car, and I’m good at sharing.”  
  
“Three’s a crowd, asshole,” Daryl said, shifting his weight to one arm so he could reach over and shove the other man back against his seat.  
  
“Actually it’s three’s company,” Rick said without much thought. He must have realized that he’d betrayed Daryl in a tiny way by saying it even absentmindedly, because he immediately started rubbing harder. Daryl bit his lip and groaned.  
  
“What he said.” Paul smiled at Daryl smugly, already back in the hole between the two front seats. Daryl would’ve punched him if the position had allowed for a proper one.  
  
“I didn’t mean you’re invited,” Rick said, sliding his fingers out. He cleaned them off by stroking all the lube onto Daryl’s cock.  
  
“Could he even handle two?” Paul asked, and Daryl glared at him. For one thing, fuck him for talking about him like he wasn’t there. For another, how dare he question his ability to take two fucking dicks. Daryl could probably take twelve dicks if he wanted, and if he couldn’t, he would goddamn die trying.  
  
“He can take anything,” Rick said proudly, lining himself up, the head of his erection butting up against Daryl’s opening.  
  
“Care to put your asshole where your boyfriend’s mouth is,” Paul challenged.  
  
“Screw you,” Daryl said, regretting the words the second they were out of his mouth, because he knew the other man was about to-  
  
“That would be great.”  
  
Goddammit.  
  
And goddamn himself for wanting to know just a little what two at once would be like. God, he’d feel so _full_. He moaned softly at the thought at the exact second Rick started sliding in, and he was grateful that he had an excuse for the sound.  
  
“You still didn’t tell us what you had in your – what did Rick call it? – ‘needy little hole,’” Paul commented.  
  
“Do you ever shut the hell up?” Daryl asked.  
  
“He’s got a point,” Rick said, and he reached around to stroke Daryl’s cock apologetically when he realized he’d accidentally betrayed him again. “You took me so easy, sugar.”  
  
“Cucumber,” Daryl muttered, and he could hear the blush in his own voice when he said it.  
  
“Daryl, you had a cucumber for breakfast this morning,” Rick pointed out, slowly rolling his body out and back in.  
  
“Couldn’t put it back in the kitchen after.”  
  
“Jesus, that’s filthy,” Rick said, in a way that suggested lust-filled awe rather than disgust. “Should’ve asked for a bite.”  
  
“Now who’s filthy?” Daryl asked.  
  
“Still you.” Rick took on a slow, almost torturous pace, rocking into his lover from behind. Daryl pushed back greedily, curving his back to help Rick hit the angle that helped his body build toward completion.  
  
“What does he taste like?” Paul asked. Daryl bit back a swear. He’d almost let himself forget the son of a bitch was there.  
  
“ _What_?” Rick asked.  
  
“His cock, Rick. What does it taste like?”  
  
Daryl glanced back over his shoulder at Rick who looked back at him, stunned.  
  
“I wanted to leave him up a tree,” Daryl reminded him.  
  
“You wouldn’t have,” Jesus said.  
  
“Yes, I would’ve,” Daryl said back.  
  
“I wouldn’t have let you. I haven't exactly been out this whole time," Paul said. "It’s a pretty good test of character to see what two people will do with an unconscious man. I was going to wait until we got where we were going to have a chat with you guys about what we can do for each other, but...”  
  
“But you decided to wake up early and try to get inside my ass instead,” Daryl said. “And we can’t do shit for each other. Be better off pretending to sleep some more.”  
  
“Sure we can,” he said, sounding pretty certain of himself. “Your people can establish trade with my people. I can suck your dick while your boyfriend plows your vegetable patch.”  
  
Daryl blew air out through his nose, and he wasn’t quite sure which thing he was more frustrated about—that Paul wouldn’t shut the hell up and let him enjoy the delicious pull-drag of Rick’s cock over his sweet spot, or that a part of his brain had very loudly said, _Yes, please!_ in response to the other man’s offer. Daryl couldn’t help but imagine Paul’s lips stretched wide open around his cock. He shook his head.  
  
“You’re thinking about it,” Jesus accused. “You like to fill yourself up, don’t you? Imagine what two of us would feel like.”  
  
Daryl imagined. He’d stuffed himself full of whatever he could get his hands on so many times. He’d be completely gaped open around two cocks, his rim burning dully with the effort. Riding the man in the back seat while Rick thrust hard into his backside.  
  
Daryl groaned, unsure if it was due to his thoughts or because Rick had reached around and grabbed his cock tightly. Maybe both.  
  
“You’d love it,” Paul said.  
  
“Rick,” Daryl panted. His body jerked with the effort to push back against Rick’s movements and fuck into his hand at the same time.  
  
“That could be my mouth.”  
  
“Rick ain’t much for sharin,” Daryl said. It was the only thing he could think of. Rick squared up anytime someone so much as looked at Daryl. Hell, there’d been several times he’d even seen the man glaring at Carol when he thought no one was looking, and he knew Daryl had never held even a passing interest for anything without a dick.  
  
“That right?” Paul asked.  
  
“Well...” Rick started. Daryl practically broke his own neck whipping his head around to look over his shoulder. Paul laughed quietly, knowingly.  
  
“You’ve thought about it before,” Paul said.  
  
“Maybe. With Aaron.” Rick paused his movements, letting his hands make their way back to Daryl’s hips.  
  
Daryl’s eyes went wide. And then he fantasized about that too, which was a hell of a lot easier since he’d actually seen Aaron’s dick in their time on the road together. Not on purpose, but it was sort of hard to avoid when you were sharing space the way people did in the new world.  
  
“He ain’t…”  
  
“I know. He’d never do that to Eric,” Rick said. “Why it’s called a fantasy.”  
  
“Shit,” Daryl said. Then again, he hadn’t exactly _not_ ever fantasized about fucking Aaron. He remembered a pretty vivid dream where Aaron had practically rammed his entire tongue into his asshole.  
  
“I’d never share you. You’re mine,” Rick said. “But it’s different if it’s...”  
  
“Just sex?” Paul asked.  
  
“So you’d… Me and you and someone else?” Daryl swallowed, the heavy feeling of tense inevitability starting to seep into his skin and bones like molten tar. This was going to happen. He could already feel the want creeping through and permeating the air of the car, even if he and Rick hadn’t quite broken down and admitted it yet. Hate him as they might, Paul was a damn good-looking man. He was available. He was willing. And more than anything, in the world they lived in, opportunities often didn’t come around twice. They had to be seized when they were there.  
  
“Only if you wanted,” Rick said. He still hadn’t moved an inch. Daryl clinched his muscles around his erection just to hear him gasp softly. He moved himself forward until Rick slid out of him, and then he groped around in the floorboard for his knife holster, pulling it free of his discarded jeans. He held it up menacingly.  
  
“You try a damn thing, and we can still change our minds about killin you,” Daryl said. Then he slit the ropes on Paul’s wrists and ankles and looked back at Rick. “We’re gonna have to get out of the car. No way we can...”  
  
Paul was already sliding out of the backseat and shucking his coat. He laid it down on the asphalt next to the clunker. Daryl and Rick followed, Daryl feeling very exposed half-naked outside of the car. Rick had hitched his jeans back up, but his erection was still out, half-concealed by the untucked bottom of his shirt.  
  
“So, do we just-” Rick started, but Paul had already laid himself down on his coat and started working on getting his jeans undone. He pulled himself free, and Daryl swallowed. It was an average dick as far as he could tell in the moonlight, not lusciously intimidating like Rick’s, not overly thick like his own. But it was gorgeously shaped just like the rest of Paul’s features. Simple and pretty.   
  
“Um.”  
  
“Here,” Rick said, pressing the tube of lubricant into Daryl’s palm. He wrapped his fingers around it reflexively. Paul looked at him, raising his eyebrows. The hunter watched him run his hand down his own cock before somehow managing to take a step forward.   
  
“Here,” Paul echoed, sitting up. He gently grabbed Daryl’s hips and tugged him closer before swallowing him whole. Daryl’s hips stuttered forward.  
  
“Fuck. _Fuck,”_ he gasped.  
  
Fingers gently pried the lube out of his hand while soft lips glided up and down his cock. A skilled tongue circled the head of his erection before flicking rapidly at the sensitive ridge beneath. Eyes fluttering, Daryl groaned quietly, reaching out for… something. He groped at the air before finding Rick’s arm and squeezing it tight.  
  
He was only vaguely aware of Rick moving to stand behind him. Then there were lips on his neck. Two fingers slid their way into him, massaging while Paul took him all the way into his throat. It took all Daryl had to bite back his moan, turning it into a tiny whine that vibrated in his chest. Another set of fingers wormed their way into him, stretching and pulling.  
  
Two became four became six. His rim burned, but he didn’t want it to stop. He never wanted it to stop. Six became seven. The two men worked in tandem, pulling gently in opposite directions, coaxing his hole wider and wider. No one touched him where he needed, but Paul’s mouth on him was enough. Seven became eight. Rick hummed his pleasure against the back of Daryl’s neck. Daryl reached a hand back over his shoulder, grasping the back of Rick’s head and curling his fingers tightly into the other man’s hair. An anchor to reality as well as an expression of his own pleasure, just in case the steady whimpers and whines weren’t enough.  
  
“I think he’s ready,” Rick said, his voice husky and thick with lust.  
  
Jesus pulled off his cock with an obscene slurp. Daryl opened his eyes, looking down to meet the other man’s otherworldly blues briefly before dropping his gaze to Paul’s cock. It was glistening in the moonlight, slick with lubrication. Daryl nodded. He wanted that. Maybe not attached to this specific person, but it didn’t matter who it was attached to there in the middle of an abandoned road in the end of the world.  
  
Two. Two at once. He nodded again while fingers slipped out of him, trailing slick across his ass cheeks. Then he knelt down, straddling Paul who fell back onto his coat, slipping one arm under his head, grabbing his cock with the other to hold it steady while Daryl sank down onto it. Jesus gasped at the feeling of heat and pressure surrounding him. Daryl sighed contentedly, rocking on the hardness penetrating his body.  
  
Behind him, he felt Rick squat down, his denimed thighs butting up against the tops of Daryl’s. Fingers pushed in around Paul’s cock, testing the space there, making sure Daryl really was ready to accept him too. Paul moaned, at the friction or the tightness or both.  
  
“Lean over,” Rick said softly. Somewhere out in the night, an owl hooted. Daryl remembered to listen for other sounds. Walkers. Humans. He briefly tore his mind away from the scene unfolding there on the road, letting Rick nudge him forward while he trained his ears on his surroundings. It was quiet other than Paul’s heavy breathing beneath him and the wet rustling of Rick presumably slicking up his own cock.  
  
“Will your boyfriend get mad if I kiss you?” Paul asked.  
  
“No, but I might,” Daryl said. But he leaned over and mouthed the other man’s lips sloppily anyway, all the while Rick pushed his erection against his already occupied ass.  
  
There was a brief second while Jesus licked his tongue (and that was the only way Daryl could think to describe exactly how he was being kissed) where the hunter worried that Rick wasn’t going to fit, that their little group fantasy was going to die and he would’ve slid down onto Paul Rovia’s stupid cock for nothing. But Rick kept pushing, kneading Daryl’s cheeks apart with his thumbs.  
  
“Do something useful and help him relax,” Rick said, an edge of jealousy to his voice. Maybe he wasn’t so good with the kissing thing after all. Daryl pulled away, burying his mouth in the crook of Paul’s neck instead. He smelled like rosemary and sweat.  
  
Nimble fingers traced over Daryl’s balls before dipping lower, massaging the stretch of skin between them and his hole.  
  
“Ah,” Daryl whimpered quietly. The head of Rick’s cock finally breached his rim, and Daryl couldn’t make any sound. His mouth hung open next to Paul’s skin, and he let out a little gasp against the overly warm flesh. It _burned_. It burned and it ached and it felt like far too fucking much to have both of them inside of him. Overfuckingwhelming.  
  
Rick took his insertion slow, panting hard while he continued to sink into Daryl’s body. Daryl could feel every minute drag of the other man’s erection against the walls of his hole. Paul stopped rubbing him, sliding his hand up the back of Daryl’s shirt instead. Rick kept sinking.  
  
“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Rick whispered. “Jesus, that’s tight.”  
  
Paul moaned, so softly that Daryl only knew it happened from the vibrations he felt against his lips. His own fingers clawed softly at the coat beneath them, digging into the asphalt it barely covered. His knees were going to be bruised after this.  
  
He huffed a quiet laugh into the collar of Paul’s shirt. He had two whole cocks in his asshole and he was worried about his damn knees.  
  
“Shit,” Rick said, his pelvis colliding with Daryl’s ass. He was all the way in. No one moved except Paul, who gently ran his hand up and down Daryl’s spine, softly petting his skin. A gentle breeze kicked up and rustled Daryl’s hair.    
  
“You’re incredible,” Jesus said, so softly that Daryl doubted Rick had even heard him.  
  
“You okay?” Rick asked. His hands found Daryl’s skin too, stroking the sides of his hips and upper thighs.  
  
“So far,” Daryl said hoarsely before adding, “Not yet.”  
  
“Tell us when,” Rick said. “You got no idea how good this feels already.”  
  
“You really don’t,” Paul said.  
  
“Might,” Daryl said. Because despite the discomfort, he could already tell that his body was going to love it. It was all the fullness he’d been hoping for jam-packed right into his greedy hole. He licked and nipped at Paul’s neck, mostly to distract himself while he acclimated to the feeling.  
  
“Just one of you until I...” figure out how it’s gonna feel. He had a feeling both of them starting to move at once might short circuit some part of his brain permanently.  
  
“Go for it,” Paul said, letting Rick take the reigns. Smart. Or maybe he just realized Rick’s cock was on the less sensitive side of Daryl’s orifice. Or that he had more leverage or…  
  
Rick moved. Daryl gasped at the pull of it. The other two men groaned, the sounds blending together and harmonizing into an a cappella song composed of pure filth.  
  
“How’s it feel?” Rick asked, clearly struggling to get the words out.  
  
“Don’t know yet,” Daryl admitted, breathing heavily against the crook of Paul’s neck. “You, move. Rick, don’t.”  
  
They were clipped instructions, but easy enough to understand. Rick stayed still, and Jesus rocked up and back down slowly.  
  
A broken stream of little sounds poured out of the back of Daryl’s mouth. They were somewhere between a whine and the little coughing sound of someone clearing their throat, all wrapped up in obvious desperation. It was impossible for anyone but Daryl tell if the sounds were pleasure or pain, but he knew they were indisputably the latter. The tightness had shoved Paul’s erection right up against where it mattered, and the movement sent Daryl’s cock and balls sliding against the other man’s shirt. It reminded him of when he was a teenager and would hump his bedsheets to get off. Only this time he had two cocks in his ass and he was going to spatter cum all over the man beneath him when the time came.  
  
“Don’t stop,” he said, right in Paul’s ear. The man shifted below him, positioning himself better, and then he started rolling his body up, pushing himself into Daryl’s willing ass. He and Rick both groaned together again. Daryl pressed his lips against the man’s neck to muffle the long moan that trickled out of his lungs.  
  
“Can I…?” Rick asked.  
  
“Yeah.” Daryl nodded.  
  
The two men moved in and out of him like the pistons of a well-oiled engine. Sometimes one thrust in while the other pulled out, increasing the friction between their two erections. Other times they both moved simultaneously, letting Daryl feel the full impact of their combined girths. He balled fabric from Paul’s coat up in his fists, keeping his lips tight against the other man’s flesh to muffle sounds he was powerless to stop. He drooled all over him in the process, but if Jesus minded it or even noticed it, he said nothing.  
  
“Fuck,” Daryl whimpered, pulling his face away long enough to let the sound loose and to pant in a few gasping breaths before he had to put his mouth back to keep from drawing every walker in the state right to their little highway orgy. His lips vibrated against Paul’s skin. In turn, he could feel the other man’s every noise, and when the hunter's mouth dipped lower, he could feel Paul's heart thrumming wildly in the pulse point of his throat.  
  
In. Out. Separate. Together.  
  
Rick reached around Daryl’s body and gripped his cock firmly, jerking it just the way he knew he liked. Precum dripped onto the front of Paul’s shirt like syrup.  
  
“I can’t...” Daryl whined. Rick jerked him faster.  
  
“We don’t want you to,” Rick said.  
  
“I think you've earned it.” Jesus reached down, tangling his hand with Rick’s before he found a good spot to grip. Both men stroked him together, their hands forming a seemingly endless tunnel of pleasure on his shaft.  
  
“Ah, fuck.”  
  
In. Out. Together. Separate. Together. Rub, rub, rub.  
  
Daryl pressed his lips back against Paul’s mouth, forcing the other man to swallow the desperate, hoarse moan that clawed its way right out of his chest. His legs trembling unsteadily beneath him, he twitched in both their hands, cum spurting wildly all over Paul’s chest and stomach, forming little pools on the fabric.  
  
Both men kept going, their hands milking him until the very last drop trickled over Paul’s fingers. He pulled away from Daryl to suck them clean in his mouth. Daryl watched with interest and dipped his head to taste himself on the other man's tongue.   
  
Rick and Jesus kept going, dropping the part of their rhythm that led to them both thrusting in simultaneously. One man bucked in while the other slid out, and only ever that, maximizing the friction between them. Daryl sobbed, his brain screaming out “too much!” even while his cock twitched helplessly between his and Paul’s bodies.  
  
“One of you fuckers cum already,” he begged.  
  
“Gonna,” Rick said. On cue, his fingertips dug into Daryl’s hips and then he growled low, pumping his release into Daryl’s hole before sliding out, leaving Jesus alone inside of him.  
  
“I can feel your boyfriend’s cum running out of your ass,” Jesus whispered, only for him to hear. Daryl buried his face in his neck, pressing his nose into the sweaty crook of his shoulder while Paul continued to buck up into him with frenzied fervor. Daryl bit into the skin there, the only way he could even think to deal with just how overloaded his senses felt. Jesus moaned.    
  
“Close.”  
  
“You damn well better be,” Daryl panted.  
  
“Up on your knees,” Jesus said, pulling out. Daryl followed the order, anything to stop the overstimulation that left him feeling like his eyeballs were going to explode right out of his skull. It took Paul all of two seconds to get to his feet, his cock level with Daryl’s face. Wrapping his fingers around the base, he jerked it quickly. Daryl looked to his right, making eye contact with Rick who was catching his breath while he carefully tucked his shirt back into his jeans.    
  
“Better open your mouth for him,” Rick said. Daryl let his jaw slack open obediently, and Rick reached out to brush his fingers through his lover’s hair.  
  
Paul huffed through his nose, pumping harder. Once, twice, and then he moaned somewhere deep in his throat. A warm drop hit Daryl’s nose. Another hit his cheek. the other man pressed the head of his erection to Daryl’s lips, pumping the rest directly into his mouth. The hunter swallowed every drop, lapping greedily at the other man’s slit until it stopped coming.  
  
“You’re a lucky man, Rick,” Jesus said, finally letting go of his erection with a content sigh.   
  
“Yeah, I know.”  
  
Both of them let Daryl collapse onto his back on the coat for a few moments, relaxing half-naked while the gentle night breeze kissed his sweaty skin. He wiped Paul’s cum off his face and caught his breath, taking a mental inventory. Slick between his ass, a combination of lube and his Rick. Knees very sore. Arms tired. Abs aching. His asshole felt weird, fucked open and wider than it should be. But the rest of him felt amazing, weightless and so fucking pleased.  
  
“We should be getting back,” Rick said, handing him his jeans. Daryl pulled them on and got up, not missing the slick spot his ass left on Paul's long jacket. The man shrugged it on over his shirt without comment, still damp all down his front with Daryl’s release. Then with a grunt to yank open the rusty back door, he crawled into the backseat and sprawled across it, his feet up on the door.  
  
Daryl and Rick followed him inside, both of them putting their weapons back where they belonged before setting off toward Alexandria. They were a few good miles down the road before anyone spoke again.  
  
“So, what kinds of things do your people have to trade?” Rick asked. Back to business. Like the three of them hadn’t just rolled around naked in the middle of the road. Daryl looked back at the other man who opened his eyes lazily like he’d been somewhere between awake and a nap, and Rick had interrupted. He smirked at Daryl.  
  
“I take it you two trust me then?” he asked, cocky as always.  
  
Daryl narrowed his eyes at him.  
  
“Yeah, don’t push it,” Rick said.  
  
“Still got plenty of rope in my bag,” Daryl threatened.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with some much better uses for that.” Paul shut his eyes again, letting his words sink in before he started naming off the things his community had to offer. Back to business too.  
  
He and Rick made plans the rest of the ride home. 


End file.
